On Follys and Conollys
This weekend, I find myself musing on follys, both verbal and structural.
In my early twenties, I joined a turtle conservation organization for two weeks on the Caribbean coast of Costa Rica. It happened to coincide with the Semana Santa weekend, and in this remote little village that we reached by a two-hour boat ride along forest-fringed rivers, it was a big deal and the main celebration of the year. I didn’t observe much religious devotion, but I did observe a lot of drinking and a haphazard, thrown-together BBQ that we all gathered around as night fell.
I had just arrived and was keen to make a nice impression, and also to practice some of my newly gained Spanish. So the night drew on, and the dancing began. One man in particular, a man they called Minor because he was very small but muscular and quick in his movements, began to dance in a unique fashion, his thin arms waving up and down in the air, shuffling his feet side to side, a broad smile lighting up his face. He had arrived at that perfect equilibrium - when inebriation is still in his grasp and he has the composure to enjoy it. I couldn’t help but notice that he looked like a little bird flittering about, and I felt happy for him and his joyful abandon. I was sitting on a plastic chair, mute and unwilling to say much in Spanish all night, but it suddenly occurred to me that I actually knew the word for little bird in Spanish - pajarito. Feeling excited and without thinking it through, I said loudly to the group, who were all looking at Minor, “Él es como un pajarito!” I didn’t get the reaction I hoped for. I may as well have kicked him between the legs, for upon saying it, Minor froze and looked at me, the whole group froze, then some giggles broke out and Minor charged. He flailed his fists, tried to drag me to the ground, and screamed in my face. His brother heaved him back, and it took two men to pin him down. This went on for some time before they could finally calm him. I pleaded innocence but I didn’t have the Spanish to explain myself. Later it was explained to me that to call a man a “pajarito” is to deeply insult his manhood, and Minor had spent his life feeling inferior in that department. I spent two weeks in that community, but Minor never forgave me.
On another occasion, volunteering in the south of Spain, I blundered once more. Two men, a couple, owned the property. It catered to guests, allowing them a base for excursions into the Alpujarran mountains and an extensive garden to lounge and get lost in. On the first morning, I was given a tour of the garden by one of the owners. We walked through each area, each planting scheme, each place where I’d be working my hours. One of those areas was a stone structure, a maze of earth-red painted walls. It looked out of place, somewhat crumbling, and the owner turned to me and said, “This was Jeremy’s idea (his partner), I call it the folly.” It didn’t occur to me that he was sharing a private joke. So again, in my innocence, while sitting together over a pleasant dinner, the conversation turned to what work we would be doing the next day and I announced that I would do some weeding inside the folly. Silence. If eyes could burn, for that couple seethed in their quietness, and I realized my blunder. They disliked me after that moment and I left earlier than planned.
I grew up with the word ‘folly’ in my lexicon for we have two of them in and around the town lands of Leixlip and Celbridge.
But what are these follys? Well, in the 16th and 17th century there was a penchant for wealthy landowners to build structures on their estates. They served as symbols of their owner's wealth and taste. They were often extravagant, whimsical in nature and served no practical purpose.
The Wonderful Barn is a perfect example. It is a fantastical conical shaped building with a winding stairs that leads to a viewing area on top. AS it happens though, it is unique in that it served a practical purpose as a grain store. That area viewed from the top is the Castletown estate, the home of William Conolly, Speaker in the Irish House of Commons. The Wonderful Barn was commisioned in 1743 by Katherine Conolly, widow of William Conolly, and was done partly to provide employment following a famine.
The second structure is the Conolly Folly, also known as the Connolly Obelisk or the Obelisk Folly. It was built in 1740, again by Katherine Connolly, and again to provide employment during a time of famine and to act as an ornamental feature visible from Castletown House.. It features a series of arches topped by obelisks and is a more traditional folly structure.
The Conolly family were very influential around the area I grew up. Just this morning I walked along the Royal Canal. To get there I crossed over Louisa bridge - named after Lady Louisa Conolly, the wife of Thomas Conolly (a descendant of William Conolly). After a few hundred metres I crossed over the ‘aqueduct’, a structure built by the Grand Canal Company of Ireland, and supported throughout its development by William Conolly. This aqueduct spans the Rye river, and takes the canal waters onwards toards Dublin city. The Conollys support and investment in infrastructure projects like the Canals were instrumental in the economic development of the region and the improvement of transportation networks during that period.
For anyone visiting this area a must visit is Castletown House, the palatial home of William Conolly. Castletown House was built between 1722 and 1729, designed by the Italian architect Alessandro Galilei and the Irish architect Sir Edward Lovett Pearce. The House is impressive, but most people visit to enjoy the parklands, to walk through the forests and stroll along the Liffey river. I visited for several years before it occurred to me to venture to the area behind the house. There I found another extensive woodland and to my delight, stands of mature Yew trees.
Sadly there’s a Right of Way and Development dispute happening at Castletown Estate right now, its future is uncertain and the blame is entirely on the OPW for not securing ownership for the entire estate when the opportunity arrived. A local group has formed and is present at the entrance gate in all weathers asking for signatures on their petition. Their lead statement is as follows,
Save Castletown’s key objectives are to unite the Demesne and protect the lands from any future development. We believe these lands are of vital historical, cultural & ecological significance and therefore should belong to the people for the use and benefit of the people.
You can sign the petition at this link www.savecastletown.ie
So long and God bless.
d